


Catch A Dwarf By His Sword

by fideliant



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo is knowledgeable and gets to teach things, Communal Masturbation, Dwarves are curious, Fingerfucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliant/pseuds/fideliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwarves have but one love in their lives, and hence don't have that much experience with making love. The average hobbit, on the other hand, generally knows a ton about sex, and fortunately for Thorin and Company, Bilbo Baggins is about as average a hobbit as they come. When a dinner turns awkward, it's up to Bilbo to educate his dwarven companions. Set immediately after the end of the first movie, taking place between the Eyrie and the Mirkwood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch A Dwarf By His Sword

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=6054209#t6054209) prompt on The Hobbit Kink Meme. Not too sure if it conforms to the geography of Middle Earth, but for the purpose of story-telling, I have extended the distances between the Eyrie, Beorn's home and the Mirkwood variably.

They traversed down the stone platform as quickly as they could. Though wounded, Thorin still insisted on keeping their regular pace, grimacing as they jumped from boulder to boulder until they finally reached the bottom. There, they trekked out towards the Lonely Mountain for a good span of the day, Gandalf leading the way, before Bombur and Gloin began to complain, and Bilbo was ready to agree with both of them. They all had just escaped from a pack of orcs and Wargs, after all, and were sore and bruised and very, very tired indeed.

Without any of their possessions — they had lost everything to the goblins save their weapons and clothes — their company set up camp as best as they could, with large trees providing shelter for them, and as for mats they used the cloaks on their backs. Nori and Ori gathered up enough dead wood to make a fire, and Gandalf set out for half an hour and returned with an armful of edible herbs and vegetables, which did not please any of the dwarves very much. “Why the long faces?” he asked brightly, smiling through his magnificent white beard. “This is living off the land itself, you know.”

Balin and Bilbo tended to Thorin’s wounds, which were thankfully much more shallow than they had feared. Soon when dusk fell, they were all gathered around a lively fire eating mulberries and wild onion and acorns, talking about the journey ahead.

“A few weeks more,” Bofur said confidently. “A few weeks more, and we’ll be in Erebor, I know it.”

“To take back our home, and our gold!” Gloin shouted, as Fili and Kili nodded and raised their sprigs of mulberry in agreement.

“Be vigilant,” Thorin cautioned darkly, as was his way. “We must be prepared to meet Smaug on the steps to Erebor, possibly even Dale.”

“S’not going to be a problem, not with our master burglar here!” Dwalin beamed at Bilbo.

At that point Bilbo nearly choked on an acorn, and Bofur, who was seated next to him, pounded his back for him. “Um,” Bilbo said, coughing, “I don’t really know about the master bit, but thank you all for your kind words!”

“But you are, aren’t you?” Oin chipped in. Ever since Bilbo had raised his sword in defence of Thorin the night before, he felt that the dwarves had grown to like him much more than before, though the newfound acceptance seemed to come with equally raised expectations. “You must have stolen lots for Gandalf to have chosen you!”

“I…er, well,” Bilbo wrinkled his nose. He was a modest little hobbit, but at the same time he didn’t want to lose the trust they had for him. He thought back quickly on his life, fishing for anything that could remotely resemble an act of artifice. “I did steal something once, but it was sort of by accident.”

“Pray tell, Master Baggins!”

“Yes! Tell us!”

“Tell us!”

He blushed. “It wasn’t too far back, actually. Just some lad’s underpants, the poor thing. I did give it back to him afterwards.”

“Aye?” Dori cracked open an acorn loudly in his teeth. “What did ye steal his underpants for?”

Bilbo shrugged. “We were going at each other the night before, and he took off in the morning before I was up. Probably had something important to attend to, I suppose.”

“Going at each other?” The confused expression on Fili’s face was mirrored by most of the other dwarves. Even Thorin had raised an eyebrow. “You were fighting?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Bilbo shook his head. “You know. Having sex.”

Silence descended on them faster than the orcs up in the mountains they had left behind, and Bilbo suddenly found himself facing twelve very grim-faced dwarves and Gandalf, who was quietly enjoying a smoke on his pipe. Fili and Kili exchanged sideway glances while Ori’s eyes flicked to Oin, then Gloin, and Bofur dropped a whole onion with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes widening. Thorin’s face was unreadable, though Balin coughed vaguely and covered his mouth with his hand, excusing himself quietly.

Bilbo, in the midst of all this, started to feel rather awkward. He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. “Did…did I say something wrong?” he squeaked.

Gloin looked at Bombur knowingly, and he returned the gesture with a slight shake of his head. Sitting against a tree, Gandalf had tipped the rim of his pointed hat over his eyes and was leaning back with his pipe in his mouth, though Bilbo thought that he could see the hint of a kind smile on his lips.

Balin was the first to answer. “Master Baggins, sex is a — how do I put this? — let’s say, delicate subject with dwarves.”

“Aye.” Balin’s answer seemed to have helped Bofur find his voice. “We don’t talk about it.”

“Never?” This astonished Bilbo tremendously, for hobbits were notoriously open and extremely social where it came to the topic of intercourse. Hobbits knew how to enjoy life to its fullest, the extent of which comprised a generous inclusion of sexual intercourse. At junctures, it was common for small talk to include a discussion of the types of sex its participants had been having with their significant others or spouses, as well as the right kinds of teas and tonics heterosexual female hobbits should be taking to avoid coming out with a little hobbit in the belly.

Even from young, hobbits were raised with this in mind. At seven, his parents had sat him down and told him about where little hobbits came from and the exact way about courting and bedding other hobbits, a redundant session as Bilbo had already found out for himself two years before that. He’d learned what a blowjob was at twelve and immediately went out to learn how to receive and give one once his parents said that he was of age, and that had pretty much opened his eyes, as was the fate of many young hobbits in the Shire before his time. Bilbo learned quickly even before reaching his adult years, and after settling quite easily on the fact that he preferred male hobbits over female hobbits, the progression of experimenting and moving through several sexual partners had granted him an impressive berth of knowledge regarding the whats and hows and whens of sex, even for a hobbit.

He told the dwarves this, but Dori and Dwalin paled and Bombur nearly fell off his log and Gloin waved Bilbo away. “No more, Master Baggins! I mean you no offence, but I must tell you that it is frowned upon among dwarves to take a subject such as sex trivially. We male dwarves spill our seed to give rise to young, strong dwarves to continue our family lines, not for pleasure.” His look was apologetic, Bilbo could see, but all the same he felt slightly beaten down, and for the first time in his life, ashamed over sex.

“Oh.” His voice sounded very small to himself, and he could feel his cheeks flaring. “I…I am sorry. I shan’t speak of it again.”

They returned to their dinner and their talk of fortune and danger and Erebor, but when they had finally finished eating and started to prepare to sleep, Thorin had still not said anything.

 

 

 

The next day they set out for the Carrock, which Gandalf explained to them was the home of the mighty skinchanger Beorn. They made their way deeper into the valley, and between taking in the scenery and the dwarves’ hearty jests, Bilbo had altogether forgotten all about the affair at dinner the previous night.

“Master Baggins!” The call came from behind him; Bilbo turned to look over his shoulder. “Master Baggins!” Bofur and Dori came into view through the foliage, bending the leaves and branches back to reach Bilbo, who had split away from the party for a while to make water.

“Yes! How may I help you?” He liked it very much when he was given opportunities by the dwarves to do things for them. It made him feel very helpful indeed.

Dori pressed his lips tightly together and did not say anything, but Bofur seemed to take no heed of him. “We were wondering, Master Baggins,” Bofur started, a small grin creeping over his face. “Ah, well. At dinner yesterday, when you were talking about se…sex.” He scratched his moustache nervously and made a whinnying sound in his throat. “We were wondering — if it’s not too much trouble — if you could tell us what it’s like.”

“What?”

“Sex. What it’s like.” In the dim light, Bofur’s eyes were glassy and large with expectation.

“What it’s like?” Bilbo scratched his nose and squinted inquisitively, not following Bofur at all. “You don’t know?”

Dori gave Bofur a look that clearly said _this is all your fault,_ but Bofur still paid no attention. Bofur shook his head. “Aye. I don’t know. Never had sex before. I met a wee dwarf lass once, but we it didn’t work out for us in the end, so we never — ah, how you say — _went at it?”_

“Never?” Bilbo was beginning to thank the stars that he had been born a hobbit instead of a dwarf. “And you don’t…masturbate, or anything like that?”

Bofur shook his head. “Never. I mean, I sort of know how to, even though it’s not decent knowledge among dwarves, but — you know, there’s a difference between knowing how to smith a sword and actually smithing one.”

It was the first time Bilbo had pity stir in his heart for the dwarves since coming to terms with the fact that they had lost nearly everything that they cared about to Smaug. He nodded thoughtfully. “I…I see. Well, I —”

Through the forest, they could suddenly hear Oin and Gloin calling for them and rustling movement in the leaves. Bilbo shuddered nervously; he could still remember the looks on every dwarf’s face when he had only mentioned the S word. “Tell you what,” he told Bofur and Dori hastily, “when we stop to rest tonight, come find me and I’ll try my best.”

 

 

 

Night overtook them on a large field with thick groves of trees growing along its perimeter. As was before, their camp was elementary, made of only the bare minimum of materials necessary to even call it one. That night, Kili managed to shoot down quite a few hares for dinner in addition to Gandalf’s green food, so many of them were substantially cheered up for having meat once again.

After dinner, Bofur and Dori followed Bilbo into the forest and found a clearing within, hidden by manners of shrubbery and thick undergrowth. They found tree stumps to use as seats, and sat in a circle facing each other.

“So,” Bilbo said, wondering where he should begin. He had never had to give a talk like that before. Up until that point, everyone he spoke to in the Shire was no stranger where sex was involved, in more ways than one. “Er, I suppose…we could start with masturbation?”

Bofur and Dori continued to look at him wordlessly.

“Right. Um.” Unconsciously, Bilbo passed a palm over his groin, lingering there for a few seconds. “I guess it feels like having sex an awful lot — you get aroused and pleased and satisfied — but I wouldn’t say it’s the same thing. It’s more of sharing the experience that does it for me, but if you’re alone and bored, then I guess why not?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Dori said gruffly.

“Could you explain?” Bofur asked earnestly.

Bilbo was very nearly at his wits end with them, both of whom apparently never had the fortune to experience arousal in the entirety of their long lives. “Well, haven’t you ever been aroused before?” he asked desperately. “You know, the feeling that you want to stick it in someone, or somewhere?”

Dori’s face unclouded considerably. “Like fighting with a sword, or a spear, you mean.”

“Is it?” Bofur still looked lost.

“No, no, no!” Now Bilbo was getting a little bit frustrated. He was a patient hobbit, make no mistake about that, but he knew at once that he was not going to get much further than that. Taking them through sex would be an even more massive goose chase. He tried to think of a better explanation and was in the midst of considering several metaphors when Dori raised a hand.

“Could you perhaps teach us?” he asked.

“Eh?”

“Yeah.” Bofur nodded. “Teach us to masturbate.” As if to show that he was serious about it, he hooked his fingers under his breeches and took them off, sitting back on the stump completely nude from the waist level down. Seeing that, Dori followed as well.

“Oh.” Bilbo hadn’t considered that, and felt quite stupid for not thinking of it earlier. That, and the fact that he hadn’t had a good nice wank or shag since leaving his nice little hobbit hole, the idea of knocking one out right there was practically killing two birds with one stone.

He shrugged off his own pants and folded them up neatly on the ground. “You start by taking it in your hand, like this,” he said, curling his fingers loosely around his cock. “Not too tight, though, because you want mobility when you’re masturbating.” Bofur and Dori mimicked him. “Try to think of something that gets you aroused and erect first, because then you get a better grip on it.” He grimaced. “It’s quite annoying, when your hand slips off halfway or you can’t get the proper contact.”

“What should we think of?” Dori asked Bofur. Bofur, however, did not seem to be having too much trouble with that — his eyes were closed and there was a small smile on his face, and his cock was slowly growing bigger in his hand.

“Anyone you fancy, or want to make dwarf children with,” Bilbo supplied, unintentionally thinking of Thorin. He grinned and settled on him. “Then when it’s thicker, pull back and forth along the shaft, like this.” He demonstrated the technique, a slow, languid stroke up and down his stiffening cock. It wasn’t as smooth or expert as he normally was, but part of his mind was set on instructing the two dwarves sitting before him with their cocks in their hands. “What you’re doing, actually, is stimulating it until you reach climax, which you should feel building up soon, once you’ve gotten into it.”

Frowning, Dori closed his eyes and began tugging.

“You might feel a need to thrust into your hand,” Bilbo said, doing so as he thought of Thorin’s deep blue eyes and his thick chest and arms and how they would feel around him, and arousal and heat began to pool rapidly in his groin. It felt good to be doing that once again after a long period of abstinence. “Keep — ah! — stroking.”

And Bofur and Dori did. Bofur’s cock was thick and glistening with precome as he continued to massage it, his mouth half-open. Dori, however, had opened his eyes and was looking at his flaccid cock glumly, seemingly unable to get it to harden.

As for Bilbo, he was as hard as he knew he could get, the foreskin slipping over and away from his glans between pumps of his hand. He shuddered, let out a cry and scrabbled for a leaf as his cock started to pulse obscenely, splattering the leaf with thick shots of semen that dripped to the forest floor in globs. Bilbo sat back woozily, smiling like an idiot as he threw the leaf away. “Go on, Bofur,” he droned. “Go, go, go!”

In his seat, Bofur was starting to tremble. Instinct appeared to take over, his other hand clutching greedily at his erection and he pressed both thumbs in circles over his engorged glans, stroking hard and fast, and he too came with a muffled scream, though with both hands occupied a leaf was not in the equation, and semen striped over the leaf litter. “Master…Master,” he murmured dreamily, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Master…Baggins.” Bofur let himself fall back over the stump with a contented sigh. “That was amazing,” he whispered to the canopy above them.

“Didn’t look all that good to me,” Dori grumbled.

Bilbo looked at him and got off his stump and walked over to him. “Maybe you just need some help,” he offered. He snuck both hands under Dori’s shirt, looking up at him. “With your permission?” Bilbo asked. Dori nodded uncertainly, putting his hands on his cock again. “Start when I say go.”

Immediately, his hands found Dori’s nipples and rubbed and played his fingers over them, circling them, pinching the skin lightly and warming his pectorals with his palms. Dori was incredibly sensitive there, Bilbo knew at once, because the change was dramatic. Dori flushed madly and his cock began to stand in his grip, and when Bilbo did say go, he moved his hands up and down quickly, even faster than Bofur had done, bringing his cock out to full length at incredible speed.

“You reach orgasm faster when you do this,” Bilbo explained, reaching a hand below Dori’s to fondle his balls. Dori grew even redder and his mouth hung open and his breath left him in deep pants. He had barely enough time to shout a warning before Bilbo ducked out of the way and he came in thick spurts, doubling over limply as his hands moved uselessly around his receding cock.

“Normally, what you’d want to do is to drag out the sensation over a longer period of time. You get more out of it that way.” Bilbo himself was incredibly chuffed — apparently, beating one off was exactly the thing he needed to revive his spirits — but Bofur and Dori both did not appear to be listening.

 

 

 

In the days to follow, Bilbo found himself the topic of increased attention with the dwarves. While it was never explicitly stated, Bilbo was under the assumption that the three of them were going to keep it to themselves; he remembered, after all, that many in their company did not approve anyway, and thought what Thorin might have to say about catching them in the act. Gandalf was Gandalf, and whenever he looked at Bilbo his eyes would twinkle in a fashion that suggested to Bilbo that he knew of their after-dinner activities, and Gandalf _always_ knew, Bilbo thought, but even if he did he wasn’t saying anything, which Bilbo was thankful for.

But Bofur and Dori came to him again the night after their first lesson, as well as when they stopped to rest the next day, and that time they were accompanied by Dwalin, Orin and Oin; the two of them, evidently, had been sharing their experiences with their comrades. Bilbo hadn’t expected that at all, and ended up having to reteach the steps of achieving erections and then subsequently jerking off, not to mention the groping he had to perform during the teaching process as he had done with Dori.

Though initially annoyed at first, Bilbo eventually warmed to the idea of including more people in their clandestine little group. Apart from having to teach three new dwarves about sex and masturbation, he was having much more wank time than he ever remembered having even before signing on with the dwarves, which made him quite pleased and cheery even when sleeping in dirt and dried mud. Bilbo didn’t have much to complain about that, and besides, he felt rather flattered that they looked up to him as a mentor. He was secretly enjoying it an awful lot, as a matter of fact.

“Friction,” he said during one of their sessions, “can be either a boon or a bane. You need it for stimulating the target area to build up to climax, but it can also work against you if you don’t use adequate lubrication.” Around him, the dwarves sat on their trousers, bottomless. It had become standard practice for them to shed anything in the category of shorts or breeches or underwear prior to seeking out Bilbo for the sake of convenience and accessibility to their genitals. “We’re a bit dry currently, but if you really feel the need, then you can use spit if it comes to that.” To prove his point, he spat into his palm and smeared it over the head of his cock before proceeding to fuck his fist. “Of course, bear in mind that nothing, absolutely nothing, will work better than smooth moisturising lotions.”

“What if you used something like honey?” Oin asked.

Bilbo scratched his chin. “Only if it gets licked off afterwards. Otherwise it’s sticky and messy and there are much better things to use. Like aloe.”

“Like mineral oil?” Orin suggested.

“Why, yes, perhaps.” It made sense to Bilbo, who did not think of that before. He supposed that it would make more sense to dwarves, who were constantly surrounded by smithing and building and architecture. _I’m learning from them too,_ he thought to himself. “Though I imagine you’d need a load of soap to clean it off you when you’re done. Still, it’s an option to consider.”

Dwalin and Dori nodded their assent; Bofur was stroking his cock absently and humming as he watched. Bilbo looked over them and saw that Orin was studiously taking notes, and could not help but smile.

 

 

 

Bifur stumbled upon their company during one of their rests — it was then six dwarves and one hobbit strong with the induction of Nori that afternoon — carrying a log over his shoulder. When he plodded right onto the outer edge of their circle, Bilbo was in the process of showing them how to finger someone and was hunched over with one digit pushed into his own hole.

“So you feel around gently with your finger pads, and take care when you’re doing this, even if it’s for yourself,” he squeaked. He wiggled his finger around slowly, stroking himself from within. “The hardest part is making sure that you don’t injure the skin with your fingernails; I’d strongly advise that you keep short nails and use lots of lubrication, as always, to avoid this as much as possible. If you’re unsure, err on the side of caution.”

Bifur looked around at the rest of the dwarves, most of whom were watching intently and copying Bilbo with a finger up their bums and the other hand firmly on their cocks. Oin waved at him to join them. With a look of utter bemusement, Bifur walked next to him, expanding the circle, and dropped his trousers. Then, looking at Bilbo for reference, he grasped his cock and eased a thick finger in from behind.

“Be patient,” Bilbo said between pants. He was feeling very warm, although it was a cool day. Sweat was beading on his round face. He thrust his finger in more, clenching around his knuckle, and drew it out slightly with a slow, shivering breath as his fingertip slid over the fleshy wall of his anus, sending a wave of pleasure through his thighs. His pale hips squirmed restlessly, and he pushed onto his finger unconsciously, seeking depth and contact with himself. He rotated his finger in both directions, undulating it as it turned such that it constantly buried itself shallowly in the heated flesh all around the ringed muscle of his anus.

It felt very full and snug and a sensitive tingle ran right to the base of his cock whenever he prodded himself, and he dared not try for a second finger without lubricant, though the sensation of it radiating up his spine into his crotch made him want to buck his hips. Grasping his cock, he worked his grip in a circling motion upward, then dropped down to scoop his own balls in his hand. His cock had been oozing copious amounts of precome already, but Bilbo sustained the accumulating orgasm where it was, flicking over the threshold and retreating instantly, holding himself back from coming. Not just yet.

“That’s very important,” he said, blinking back tears. “Sometimes it might take a while to reach orgasm, and you might not be able to pleasure someone else with this, especially a male dwarf, but you will be able to reach places that they normally wouldn’t be able to. It’s different from doing it on yourself because you have to listen to them and let them guide you along. Sex has to be a mutual affair.”

“What was your first time like?” Orin asked Bilbo.

He pursed his lips. “A lovely lad from down the lane. Pergwyn Sweet.” Bilbo tried to recall how he looked like, but Thorin’s face kept floating through his mind. His cock twitched whilst he wormed his finger in and out, imagining that he was being taken repeatedly. “I couldn’t have been twenty-five, and we were so excited I only lasted five minutes.”

He grinned abashedly at the memory. The room had been dark and they couldn’t see each other, but it had been one hell of a blowjob. He could feel the lips on his shaft, the curly hair twining through his fingers, how he could barely keep his back straight halfway through, and when he finally came, the sound that had burst from his throat made him feel like a dragon.

A huge roar from Bifur startled them all, and when they turned to look at him, Bifur was regarding his cock in alarm as it jerked in time with his release. He caught nearly all of it over his hands and looked at it for a long time.

“After any kind of sex, you should probably wash your hands whenever you’re done,” Bilbo told all of them meekly. “Or take a bath. A long one.” He felt like he could use one right there, actually.

 

 

 

Along the way, Bilbo began to see the effects of his teachings on the company. Now and again a dwarf or two would excuse themselves when Thorin agreed to stop for a rest, and they would then vanish and reappear after half an hour looking immensely pleased with themselves. Bombur and Gloin eventually caught wind of their sessions, and while they had at first laughed it off (“Masturbation?” Bombur had chuckled. “Don’t need it when you’ve got yourself a lovely wife at home!”), they too eventually started attending as well.

“I suppose,” Gloin had intoned at his first appearance, twisting his beard, “that being well-versed would benefit my wife as well.”

The dwarves were a endearingly curious bunch. The day before reaching Beorn’s, Bilbo came across Fili and Kili huddled behind a tree out of earshot of the others, discussing something. They too had been attending, and spent what Bilbo suspected was a significant portion of their free time wanking each other off for the sake of practice.

“So how is it?” Fili was asking Kili.

He frowned ponderously, licking his lips. “It’s just really, _really_ warm,” he complained.

“Hello! What are you two talking about?” Bilbo greeted them.

They looked up at him, and without missing a beat, Kili replied, “Swallowing come.”

They were advancing quickly, to Bilbo’s surprise. Once it was obvious that the dwarves did not want to stop at self-stimulation, Bilbo moved on to sex, starting with the oral variant. “I can’t show you how it’s like with a lady dwarf or hobbit,” he explained to them, “so this will have to do for now. Now watch.”

He held Nori’s cock in one hand and breathed on the head through his mouth, stroking it gently with his thumb as if to polish it. Nori shuddered and fought a gasp as Bilbo dipped his mouth over it and swallowed the head, keeping ample space between it and the back of his mouth. He lifted his tongue, fitting the top against the curve of Nori’s erect cock, moving it along its underside in a long sly lick and then Bilbo teased into across the wrinkles of his retracted foreskin. With his other hand, Bilbo cupped Nori’s balls, applying squeezes and releasing in counterpoint with short, sharp sucks on his cock as he laved at the glans greedily.

“D — Durin’s name!” Nori squeaked softly, when Bilbo pressed the tip of his tongue into his slit and lingered there for a while.

Bilbo looked up at him, smiling around Nori’s cock. He took steady, deliberate draws on it, encircling the midsection with his thumb and fingers to hold it in place as he sucked. Voice failing him, Nori’s breaths turned ragged and shaky, his body grew rigid, and his hands started to tremble. Another eep escaped him when Bilbo released his cock from his mouth, then immediately clamped his lips over it again.

“Oh, oh, please, _please!”_ Nori was babbling as he snapped his hips urgently, fucking Bilbo’s mouth in earnest. Anticipating that, Bilbo let his lips slide to the base of the head and worked back and forth in synchrony with Nori’s thrusts to avoid gagging.

Nori’s eyes rolled upward, and his hand reflexively found its way to the top of Bilbo’s head, and looked prone to crumbling into pieces at any moment. The bitter taste of precome leaked into Bilbo’s mouth and he felt Nori’s throbbing cock swell while Bilbo continued to slide his lips over the shaft, puffing his cheeks out and stroking the base simultaneously with his fingers.

His tongue was idle for not one moment, switching between licks and prods that were aimed at what Bilbo guessed was the most sensitive parts of Nori’s cock. He dropped his head onto it and backed up off it, providing wet friction with his lips, continuing to stroke and suck while Nori quaked under his hands. He pulled off as he felt Nori’s thighs begin to weaken and dodged to the side as he orgasmed.

“You can choose to swallow or not, depending on what you and your partner like. I myself don’t enjoy it very much.” Bilbo licked his teeth and wiped his mouth clean, Nori sinking to his knees in front of him with bliss written all over his face.

 

 

 

“You ever done it with a lady, Master Baggins?” Balin asked.

“Mm.” He was studying Balin’s bottom, figuring out how to approach the situation. The dwarf was draped over a thick log such that his beard was tucked under his tummy and his bare bum was exposed to their little party (not so little now, for they were only short Gandalf and one Thorin Oakenshield), allowing every one of them to see what Bilbo was doing. They were gathered close to each other, clustering around Bilbo and Balin, while behind all of them Ori and Kili standing on tiptoes and craning their necks to take better looks.

Bilbo spread Balin’s furry cheeks apart, giving them all a view of his hole. “We’ll see how Balin guides me through while I stimulate him,” Bilbo announced, holding his index finger up for them to see.

“It’s doesn’t feel the same when you enter a male, does it?” Balin sucked in a sharp breath as Bilbo’s finger glided languidly over his cheeks and nestled between his cleft, almost coyly, then slipped in and proceeded to explore his insides.

“Oh, no, Definitely not.” Bilbo angled his finger this way and that, sinking it in and out of the dwarf. He spread his other fingers and rested them against Balin’s fleshy bum. “Clench and relax as you like,” he instructed, and as commanded Balin’s arse tensed and released around the invading finger, and the dwarf struggled a little beneath him, letting out grateful whimpers as Bilbo twisted deeper into him. Balin looked absolutely incredible stretched out on the log, shivering and with Bilbo’s finger inside him. “Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Is it — oh, _goodness!_ How different — ahh, yes, yes, right there — how different…is…it?” Balin panted, clearly losing the fight to remain coherent between Bilbo fucking him with his finger and his own shaking hands fondling lengthwise along his erect cock.

“It’s much easier with a lady, for one.” Bilbo had lectured them on penetration for both males and females earlier, but had to leave it at that; he was good at what he did, but no amount of expertise would help him with entering a male dwarf without some form of lubrication or another. He was good, but he wasn’t stupid. In all likelihood they would just end up very disappointed, or worse still, injured.

He placed his free hand on Balin’s back and rubbed heat over his perineum, holding him tightly and keeping the dwarf from flailing about at the same time. In response, Balin’s hips shook dangerously, bucking as he humped the log and worked at his cock concurrently. Finding a stubborn resistance within Balin’s arse, Bilbo kneaded at it purposefully, listening as Balin squealed and wriggled and begged him to keep going.

“Ea — easier?” Balin asked. He wasn’t too far away from coming; Bilbo could tell.

“You don’t take so long to get it in, and you generally don’t need excessive lubrication,” Bilbo confirmed. He remembered Rophella Piulle, the best lady hobbit he had ever done it with. He told them about her, who had known even more about sex than he did at the time and taught him a great deal about the ways of pleasing male and female hobbits alike.

“Oh, just wait till I tell you what she told me about rimming!” Bilbo exclaimed.

“Rimming?” Dwalin looked on, captivated by the sight of his elder brother throwing his head back and moaning and breaking down into orgasm, and they listened to the sound of semen squirting wetly against tree bark. When it was over, Balin looked like he was deflating.

Bilbo grinned happily, withdrawing out of Balin and wiping his finger on a leaf. “You’ll see.”

 

 

 

Bilbo thought that he should have inferred the natural progression of things from the way things had gone at the beginning, though not to say he didn’t like the kissing when it slowly infiltrated their programme like a stubborn weed in a fruit garden. If whacking off and stimulation weren’t enough the first time round, then obviously they would want more even after the fingering and blowjobs. They were mostly curious, that was all, and it wasn’t their fault that they were like that, Bilbo told himself. After Dwalin seized Ori to snog him purely on impulse, and later relayed their observations to the rest, that had opened up another wave of questions, and Bilbo was soon in another position where he was obliged to teach them that too.

They worked in pairs, swapping around between sessions, though Dwalin obstinately would pair with no one else but Ori, and Fili and Kili were never apart. Everyone was quite fine with that, apart from Bilbo, who at that point was beginning to feel a tad left out. He continued to instruct, would sometimes cut into a pair to advise or correct them, and he thought that made him more of a watcher than a participant, which was not what he had in mind when he agreed to help them.

Added to that was that Thorin had yet to show up or give any indication that he was aware that virtually every member of his company was having routine sex with one another, usually after dinner, and Bilbo started to worry. Thorin wasn’t blind or stupid, he had to know something was off, and yet whenever they were travelling, before and after Beorn’s home, he maintained a constant air of determinedness that manifested itself as usual in orders and plans and decisions, which threatened to flummox Bilbo’s head right off his shoulders.

Part of him wanted Thorin to know everything, even to join them, but he knew also that Thorin was quite a proud dwarf, the heir to the noble line of Durin, and he had to have his reasons for abstaining.

Right now, Bilbo was demonstrating basic foreplay, complete with kissing and fondling. For the first time, everyone had their pants on. “Generally, up close and personal works for most people.” Dwalin had been his more-than-willing volunteer, and Bilbo stepped up to him and laid his hands on the dwarf’s hips. “You can start with whatever arouses you the most, but tactile stimulation is usually — mmmph,” Bilbo said before Dwalin eagerly took Bilbo’s face in both hands and kissed him full on the lips. _Hips chest neck hair,_ Bilbo thought quickly, but he didn’t vocalise any of it, preferring to show rather than tell as his hands deftly found those areas on Dwalin and moved to the next.

Bilbo put his palms on his chest, framing Dwalin’s impressive collarbones. He moved them over the shape of his shoulders and trailed his fingers back through his beard from the tip to his chin, yanking at it playfully to better fit his mouth against Dwalin’s lips, pushing his thumbs into the hollows of his throat.

_Groin,_ Bilbo thought, and grabbed Dwalin through his pants, his other hand scrabbling to hold the back of his neck. Dwalin was overbearing and rough in his method, and his erection was palpably growing as it bumped into Bilbo’s thighs. His fingers dug into Bilbo’s shirt and his tongue flicked into his mouth. Returning the favour, Bilbo squeezed his erection and dragged the back of his hand down the side of Dwalin’s face, cupping his jaw and kissing him back with his eyes drifting shut, thinking _Thorin Thorin Thorin._

“That’s just an example,” he rasped after they pulled apart; Dwalin stopped unwillingly, but an agreement was an agreement. “So much more can be done, and you shouldn’t think there’s any one way about doing it.” He adjusted his pants, for they had become quite tight. “Be creative!”

They broke up to try it out and Bilbo sat back down, thinking about what Thorin would say to him if it had been him that he was kissing.

 

 

 

Bilbo still thought of Thorin regularly when they were all having a communal wank. His mind would drift to him inexplicably, and though it made Bilbo feel guilty, he would still entertain those thoughts. It was peculiar; he'd never had this problem before, what with all his conditioning to free thought with regards to sex, and Thorin was by every measure a very, very attractive dwarf, and if it were anyone else it would be fair play, but Bilbo could not bring himself to feel comfortable with that.

By that time he’d engaged in at least one form of sexual stimulation with every dwarf there, all twelve of them, but sometimes he took to imagining that it was Thorin he was inside or kissing or rutting against. He wondered what it would be like to have the dwarf hold him in his arms, kiss him and lead him a dance. The mere thought would give him shivers and he would blush madly, shaking it out of his mind.

He wondered when he had started to love Thorin the way he did, at a distance, in his thoughts, never speaking up, never touching him. And if Thorin did ever love him back _(impossible)_ , Bilbo wondered if he would love him the same way.

 

 

 

They were able to see the outer edge of the Mirkwood as they drew closer and set up camp with Gandalf for the final time before sending the ponies back to Beorn. As per normal, all of them stole away when dinner was over and paired up quickly. That night, however, they weren’t in the mood for anything too elaborate; Gandalf’s imminent departure, it seemed, had demoralised them more than they had been willing to show during the day.

After the dwarves removed their pants and sat down wherever they wanted, Bilbo chose a cosy spot beneath a tall evergreen. He bent over and stripped his breeches off and gripped his cock, all thoughts on Thorin again. At Beorn’s house, Thorin had sat near him at dinner, just a seat away with Balin between them, and he had looked at Bilbo a few times at dinner. Bilbo had even held his eyes once, and grinned nervously before turning his nose into his stew, trying to hide the heated flush around his collar.

The same flush was returning that very night; he took off his overcoat, feeling quite hot to have that many layers on. He combed his fingers through his hair and sighed, idly playing his fingers over his cock. They’d left Thorin behind with Gandalf, as the dwarf had planned to make one final impassioned plea for Gandalf to stay with them. Bilbo himself hoped that it would work as he felt safer when Gandalf was with them, though the old wizard had been resolute in his decision the many times they had asked before.

Shutting his eyes, Bilbo slid his hand lazily down his cock, then up, and down again with a slow rhythm. He thought of his lovely hobbit hole back home in the Shire, about breakfast on the lawn, a casual smoke, and —

_— Thorin, joining him there, taking a seat next to him, announcing his presence with a chaste kiss on Bilbo’s knuckles, a nod and hand on his shoulder. His hobbit hole was nice and spacious, after all, surely it could easily accommodate a hobbit and a dwarf, and Bilbo’s bed was a double, so they could share. Bilbo would bring some food out of his larder for them to enjoy, like it was a picnic, things that Thorin would like to eat, such as seed-cake and freshly baked bread and seared fish, and perhaps a small pitcher of lemonade or a pot of spiced tea if they got thirsty; they could drink from the same cup._

_They would sit together and watch the clouds go by, the world milling all around them. No nasty adventures or ugly orcs or snapping wargs or talk of dragons and lost gold, just them, there and then with the summers and their long lives ahead of them. He would hold Thorin’s hand, weave their fingers together and bask in the light of day, feeling the sun’s warmth shining on his face. The wind would ruffle Thorin’s long hair, pushing dark locks over his face that Bilbo would tuck behind his ear when they moved closer to kiss. And Thorin would taste like the things he liked to eat, and because those were the things Bilbo liked to eat as well, he would love Thorin even more madly for that._

_After that, perhaps they would take a walk around the Shire, pick out clothes to match Bilbo’s new drapes or bands to tie braids in Thorin’s beard. Lunch would be at noonday, high tea an hour after with buttered crumpets and cheese-on-bacon toast. They could even buy Thorin a quality whetstone to sharpen his axes on, as Bilbo knew that Thorin liked to service his weapons himself regularly. As night came, he’d stumble out of the village library with books in his arms piled high above his head, tottering as he tried to keep his balance, until Thorin would catch his elbow and help him steady himself, and Bilbo would smile at him gratefully._

_There was a quaint little shoppe tucked away somewhere in the village that had a four-piece string ensemble, and they could go there for the music, kicking off their shoes to dance with the grass beneath their soles and the stars coming out above and the inky sky weighing down on them. The crickets in the hills chirping serenely, and a gentle breeze blowing as they breathed each other in. “Oh, I love you,” Bilbo knew he would whisper in Thorin’s ear, and all he could ever want was for Thorin to say it back._

Bilbo opened his eyes to the forest, and quickly became aware that Thorin was standing over him. “Thorin!” he squeaked, scrambling to put his breeches back on and getting them tangled about his ankles. He turned away quickly, covering himself with his hands. “I — I — I,” Bilbo stammered, at a complete loss for words.

“Halfling.” His expression was completely unreadable.

“I — uh…” Bilbo hung his head, not daring to look at Thorin. He scuffed his bare feet across the ground, reaching behind him to pull the tails of his shirt down over his bum. Humiliation burned in his cheeks.

“I’ve heard all about it from Balin, Bilbo,” Thorin said.

“You — you know, then,” he mumbled. “I — I’m sorry, Thorin. I know that I — I shouldn’t have, I’m really sorry. Don’t blame Balin, or Bofur, or any of the rest; it’s my fault, I promise I won’t ever —” Bilbo was cut off as Thorin reached down and rested his palm against his cheek. He raised Bilbo’s face to look into his eyes.

“It was good of you to teach them, Bilbo.” He rubbed his thumb over Bilbo’s temple. “They’re happy, I daresay happier than I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re not angry? But…but what about the dwarves and their seed..?”

Thorin shook his head. “Being able to make someone else happy, or even yourself — I see no dishonour in that. And,” he said, moving forward to kiss Bilbo’s nose, “perhaps you could even teach me as well.”

All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head as his heart quickened. “Oh!” Bilbo said, and a giggle escaped him. He curled his fingers around Thorin’s wrist, smiling at him. “I could, couldn’t I?”

 

 

 

Thorin Oakenshield was a bloody fast learner, Bilbo found.

Bilbo nudged a knee between Thorin’s legs until it was touching bark and ran a hand up his thigh. Thorin folded his arms around Bilbo carefully, locking him in an embrace that meant that Bilbo was not getting away from him, and he splayed his fingers across the back of Bilbo’s head, massaging his scalp through his tangled brown hair. He dipped his head and kissed Bilbo, breathing in deeply and sending a cool prickle across the bridge of Bilbo’s nose. As Bilbo sneaked a hand into Thorin’s pants and found his cock, Thorin’s eyelids flickered.

“This is nice,” he admitted, and kissed Bilbo’s chin.

Bilbo secured Thorin’s cock quickly and rubbed at it, stimulating it to erect. “Think of me in you,” he whispered, not bothering to give his voice an instructional edge. “You in me. Either way’s okay.” Thorin was already slightly hard, so Bilbo commenced with stroking and applying pressure to where he knew sensitivity tended to be the highest, trying to bring him to a full erection.

Jerking his wrist, Bilbo skimmed Thorin’s pants lower and freed his cock, allowing him to work at it unrestricted by fabric. Thorin was still kissing Bilbo, his breath catching periodically as he dove in again and again. The heat from his lips never left Bilbo’s, clinging to him as tightly as Thorin was. Mid-kiss, Bilbo thought Thorin said something, but it came out muffled and changed into a low hum that ticked his tongue as Thorin’s slid into his mouth repeatedly. He nipped Thorin’s lip and grinned cheekily, curving his unoccupied hand into his armpit.

Thorin’s hand slipped behind Bilbo’s back, which was damp with sweat, and molded his spine tenderly, drawing him even closer, and continued trailing down until he reached his curvy bum. Knowing what was coming, Bilbo readied himself and breathed out as Thorin entered him, pushing in one finger up to the first knuckle. His erection was caught between their bare abdomens, providing firm contact on both sides while he ground his hip into Thorin’s groin.

Thorin snarled and tugged Bilbo against him, tipping Bilbo’s face up and dodging past his chin to suck a wet spot onto his neck. Bilbo gave a startled squawk.

“Oh, they’ll see that tomorrow, they will!” he wailed.

Thorin smirked. “Let them see, then.” He moved the finger he had in Bilbo in circles, and at that, Bilbo dropped his hips back to take in the second knuckle. Thorin’s finger was deviously wriggly and had a thing for merciless prodding, and very soon even the slightest movement was over-stimulating Bilbo to the point of breathlessness. Thorin dug in deep, and Bilbo relinquished his hold on Thorin’s cock, preferring instead to brace both hands on Thorin’s shoulders.

“Oh, Thor — _oh!”_ His body jerked uncontrollably and Bilbo let his head fall back, trying to escape the unbearably sensitive touch of Thorin’s mobile finger, only for Thorin to hold him up and kiss him again.

“I believe this is the part where you come,” he murmured to Bilbo’s forehead, giving his finger a meaningful twist and rutting his hairy abdomen over Bilbo’s cock; the twin sensations were too much for Bilbo to take, and he lost all resistance, bucking his hips forward with shocking speed and coming all over Thorin’s belly.

He wilted in Thorin’s arms like a flower in the morning, breathing heavily as Thorin finally worked his finger out of him. “You…you are extraordinarily good at this,” he admitted giddily. He looked up at him, suspicious. “You are sure you haven’t done this before?”

Thorin petted the top of his head affectionately. “I am,” he said.

Bilbo was inclined not to believe him, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. “You just wait when it’s my turn, you’ll see. I’ll show you —”

“Oh, yes.” Thorin let Bilbo lean onto him, and Bilbo was struck by how kempt he had managed to keep himself even after all that. He smiled at Bilbo. “I suppose you’ll show me everything you know.”


End file.
